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This is the last of the immediately excerpted chapters of S&S. The book is fully in outline and acted-out stages and the final writing has begun. I will fill my blog now with guest blogs, helpful tips and links to help you with your writing and encouragement with all my heart to go ahead with what you want to write. The time has never been more opportune. E-books are blossoming all over the map and they’re getting better and better.

From time to time until S&S is published in either July or October 2012, I will excerpt other chapters that I think you’ll find engrossing. This chapter will stay on for approximately 6 weeks.

I certainly hope you’re with me in this. The topics I tackle in this book are so much a part of our world today. We sorely need to feel the love of God and His blessings in our lives. What better then than one of the Holy Bible’s most intense and treasured love stories. Timeless love can be ours too.

*****

The trip to New Orleans had been uneventful, but Sheba and Marty were both nervous. He rapped with the door knocker on the black grilled, white door of the redbrick house on Gentilly Boulevard, a house that he had slowly passed many times when he lived In New Orleans with his great uncle Charlie Cartier, his mother’s uncle. Marty drew a sharp breath and held Sheba’s hand tightly.

The door opened quickly and they faced a beigeskinned sixtiessomething woman with close-cropped black curly hair and an oval face. She was very attractive, but she held her lips in a bitter line as she invited them in, her eyes never leaving their faces.

“So you made it,” she said. “I should be civil and ask about your trip, but you’ll find I’m not the most civil of people. Come in and sit down and tell me exactly what you want from me. I certainly know you very well, Martin, although I’ve only spoken with you by phone, and that lately. And I know you, Sheba, from your beautiful voice when I listen to Marty’s sermons. Yes, I do listen from time to time. And you obviously know a little about me.”

Sheba Davis sat on the back seat of her twin Ernie’s snazzy black Porsche just behind Martina Solomon, who was both their friend. Martina’s daughter, Kaya, sat just behind Ernie and from time to time looked at Sheba and smiled. Kaya was nine and often commented on Sheba’s burgeoning belly. Five months pregnant, Sheba often touched her own body where her baby had begun to move. Now she thought sorrowfully that her late husband, Scott, would have loved watching his child grow, touching his wife ardently the way he did. They were so in love. She felt the start of tears just behind her eyelids.